Bluebirds, Anonymous
by Carolare Scarletus
Summary: Seamus Finnigan was among the used and abused, and when his guidance counselor suggests signing up for a self-help group at his new school, he does just that. When he arrives to there and his nerves almost get the best of him. High School AU!


**House:** Slytherin

 **Category:** Bonus

 **Prompts:** High School AU!

 **Word count:** (Excluding Author's Note, but including entire Entry and Title)

 **Warning:** This is an AU (Alternate Universe) piece.

 **Characters:** Hermione Granger; Seamus Finnigan; Lavender Brown; Alastor Moody; Fred Weasley; George Weasley; Tom Riddle; Theodore Nott; Adrian Pucey; Draco Malfoy

 **Summary:** Seamus Finnigan was among the used and abused, and when his guidance counselor suggests signing up for a self-help group at his new school, he does just that. When he arrives to there and his nerves almost get the best of him. Inside the large band room are a bunch of misfits whose only accomplishments are banding together and expressing themselves in a way that Seamus never imagined. Despite his flaws, they accepted him and he's now part of the Bluebirds, Anonymous.

 **Author's Note:**

 _As always, enjoy_

-Carolare Scarletus

* * *

Bluebirds, Anonymous

* * *

Seamus Finnigan's hand stopped mid-air, his heart palpitating inside his chest. This was his third attempt to go through this door, and for the life of him, he couldn't pull it off. He didn't know what was wrong with him; it wasn't like he was doing it on purpose, it was just his mind playing tricks on him. It was trying to persuade him to turn back around and leave, but he couldn't do it. After years of dealing with this disorder, it was time to just let it all out. He wanted to do this so badly, he was willing to let people in, even if they turned on him in the end. Closing his eyes, Seamus finally mustered up the courage to place his hand on the knob and turn it. What greeted him wasn't what he expected.

"Oi! Close the door. You're letting all the good vibes out, man," someone yelled to him. He immediately opened his eyes, confronting the owner of the voice and finding it to be none other than Theodore Nott, a charismatic jewel in his first block. He'd had the unfortunate accident of knocking into him as he passed through the aisle to his seat, and the oaf hadn't forgiven him for moving his desk. "Oh, it's you. What're doing here?"

"Is this…" Seamus began, trying to find the words. "This is Bluebirds, Anonymous… right?"

Theodore only looked at him with an air of utter confusion before a brilliant smirk formed on his lips. He barked in laughter, almost dropping the small drum in his hand. Shaking his head, he pointed to the door.

"Poetry meeting is across the hall. Who the hell told you that it was held here?"

"Er,"

"God, don't tell me it was Malfoy." Theodore groaned. "That git can't tell the difference between an elbow and oboe. Lemmie know if he tries anything, I'll set him right."

"Is this the group, or not?" He hadn't the time to play around with him. His courage was running out and the hour-long break between classes was dwindling. Classes at Hogwarts High School were incredibly diverse, as were the accompanying students. The two-story historical building in downtown London drew a good bit of attention with its smart face and its beautifully aged architecture, but it's ability to reform and reintroduce troubled adolescents was one of the reasons his mother decided to enroll him at the school. She hoped being among people just like him would allow him to open up, not that he hadn't tried in the past. After his father's death, he couldn't find any reason to be happy. Though the man deserved every bit of it for what he did, there was still this nagging feeling of underachievement. His father was a monster, a maniac who used abused them. Now that they were set free Seamus was determined to live his life without fear.

Theodore dried his eyes and continued to chuckle. "Yea, mate. I was just messin' with ya. C'mon in. I'd welcome you to the group, but it seems that our President or some shite is still mourning the unfortunate accident of our teacher, Miss Umbridge, so you'll have to excuse me."

"Did she tell you that to make sure that you behave yourself?"

"Why are you assuming our president is a 'she'?" Theodore asked, before laughing again. "It's a joke, mate! Lightened up. 'Mione's alright - it's Zabini and Pucey you have to worry about.

Just then, two colossal individuals appeared behind Seamus, each sporting their own menacing expression as they playfully lunged to Theodore, rustling up his unkempt hair. Theodore grinned despite watching them as they casually tossed around his small drum, nonchalant in the belief no harm could come to the small instrument.

"Nott," a hiss disrupted their moment of peace. A beautiful girl with wild curly brown hair walked into the room, carrying a stack of books. She set them down on top of the piano before huffing. Her hair fell over her face, but Seamus didn't miss the glare that blossomed on her young features, which were directed at Theodore.

He smiled at her innocently, "Yes, love?"

"Don't call me that," she growled. "What have I told you about these instruments?"

"That… they don't belong-"

" _Don't_ ," the girl said slowly and deliberately, "toss them around. We've already had to replace two of them because of you." She looked around the large room, as did Seamus. He didn't expect the room to be so… liberating in the musical arts. For a self-help group, or as his guidance counselor said, these anonymous meetings were a guarantee to recovery. He looked at the girl and her friend, the feeling of wanting to escape creeping up again. He'd promised his mom that he'd beat this thing, that he'd at least the very least _try_ to see what the school had to offer. Seamus was a good kid and meant well, but that didn't mean he wasn't without his flaws.

"C'mon, 'Mione, Zabini and Pucey are only playing."

"That's precisely what I'm afraid of," she sighed before shuffling through the stack she brought in. "Now, which song did the group decide on?"

"The one with the quirky title."

"I'm a single lady?" Theodore asked his friend.

While they discussed the different sheets of music, Hermione looked up, picking him out from the impressive inventory of the room.

She smiled at him. "You must be new."

"I must," he stammered nervously. "I'm Finnigan. Seamus Finnigan."

"Hermione," but when she extended her hand, he did didn't take it. Feeling awkward, Hermione nodded and busied herself with the piano. After lifting up the cover, she sat down on the bench and ran her fingers up and down the keys. Electricity buzzed between them; Seamus never felt such amazing energy from something so silent. He was sure that whatever she was about to play, she would be brilliant….

Then the thought hit him.

"This isn't Bluebird, Annon, is it?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, looked to Theodore and Adrian as they roughly took out their guitars and began to play, mindlessly involved in whatever song they'd selected to sing together out of the group. Shaking her head, she looked back and Seamus.

"I'm afraid not," she told him. He knew that she could read his fear, be it in the way he balled up his hands and looked at the door. The nervous twitch in his brow wasn't helping his cause either and everything he'd worked up to was falling apart, one thread at a time. He felt powerless and lied to; he knew that it wasn't Theodore's fault, but he'd spent year's blaming himself that it felt good to put that negative energy on someone else. Seamus was an interloper, an outsider; no one here, the fair few that were, would understand him. When he made up his minding, achieving what he set out to do, Seamus turned and ran straight to the door. Only Hermione's voice stopped him from reaching the doorknob.

"I know they're a bunch of gits, but they're good people," Hermione told him. "We've all been through things, and this is the only place we can be who what we are, without the physical restraints of society or the judgemental eyes of our peers."

"You sound like you know what I've been up against," Seamus said, his voice deep with emotions.

The sound of shuffling fabric indicated she'd shrugged. "I'm just saying that judging us without getting to know us may not be the best thing. Theodore is an arse, but he wasn't lying to you. This is Bluebird, Annon. But, we don't use that with the normals."

"And, who exactly are 'Normals'?"

"The ones who aren't facing the world like we are," she told him. "They're ones who don't have to pretend, who don't cut themselves or starve themselves. The ones who haven't been abused."

"You seem perfectly fine," Seamus turned around and looked at her. "Whatever you're going through, you seem to be doing well."

"What you see on the surface doesn't always match was rippling underneath," she said, swallowing hard. Hermione raised her head defiantly, looking at him with a sort of determination he'd never seen before. His heart skipped a beat; he'd never seen anything like what he was witnessing now, and it was empowering. There was something about her… something he couldn't place. Her next words almost seemed like a dream. "Anyway, you're free to go. If you want to stay, that's up to you because we do share, but our kind of sharing is more constructive and less demeaning than most self-help groups."

Seamus stood there at the blasted door, the very thing that he'd faced at the beginning of this grueling endeavor. He hadn't known then, back when he was fighting with the demon who'd stopped him from opening the door the first time, what he'd face, but he soon discovered that he liked it. Whatever accomplishment he'd set out to do, he achieved it without fault the moment he walked away from the door and joined them in their reclusive little haven.


End file.
